Week 4 of the NFL Explained with George Clooney Ex-Girlfriend Analogies

By Lord Castleton | TV | September 30, 2014 | Comments ()

By Lord Castleton | TV | September 30, 2014 |


One more weekend in the NFL has bid us adieu like a drunken Captain Stubing sailing off into the distance and all we have left is wonderful memories, perhaps a new spring in our step and what feels like some type of steroid-resistant VD.


This was a “bye week” in the NFL, which means that six of the NFL’s 32 teams had the week off. The smaller docket should allow me to keep this article shorter than, say, Beowulf.

Not this weird Beouwulf:


This, classic Beowulf.


It was kind of a shoulder-shrug of an NFL weekend, to be honest. There were a lot of points scored, but strangely the games weren’t all that exciting. Football has a reputation as being a bit obtuse.

But it’s really very simple. I think the “downs” are the tricky part. This should clear everything up for you.


Are we clear? Yes, Lord Castle- ARE WE CLEAR?

Okay good. But really, the important takeaway is this: There are only four ways to score in football, which is only three more ways than soccer and nineteen less ways than a one night stand with Prince. Let me break it down for you:

THE TOUCHDOWN = 6 points

The touchdown, or “TD” is the big daddy of football scoring. That’s the one that puts asses in seats. That’s when you move the ball into your opponent’s endzone. It’s the Clooney wedding of football scoring.


Oh hello, world! It’s a great day to the handsome and wealthy King of America! I think I’ll spend like 15 million dollars on a one-day event! I swear to god this whole thing isn’t just a wafer-thin excuse for me to look like Marcello Mastroianni in 8 ½!


So that’s what a touchdown is. But with every blissful TD score, there’s always a loser, and in this case, the loser is none other than lovely, all-American girl Stacey Keibler.


Now, I know Keibler is “married”and “had a child” and “moved on.” But I haven’t, okay? What’s wrong George? Corn-fed American gals aren’t mysterious enough for you? Apple pie not your thing anymore? You just wait, smart guy. Wife to a barrister isn’t all Jaffa Cakes and sunshine. Might be that a Stacey Keibler meatloaf won’t sound so bad in the future. But hey, who am I to pass judgment on the King of America? It’s not like Francis Scott Key had a premonition about this relationship while watching the bombardment of Fort McHenry or anything. I’m sure that the man who penned the poem from whence our National Anthem sprung while being held captive aboard a British Frigate would be totally fine with you marrying an English national.


Or, maybe he wouldn’t. The point is that here in ‘Murica, we’ve got plenty of good women, and we’re sorry that one of the +/- 50 million single women here weren’t to your liking. Normally I’d say for you to kiss my mother effing A for kicking America in the milky underbelly of it’s bananaconda, but-


What the? Sir W? You’re not even IN this article. My football partner this week is none other than the outstanding Captain Meryl Stubing.





Whoa whoa whoa! That’s more than enough. Thank you Captain. Y’know what? I’m actually not going to need you for this particular article. I really appreciate you hanging out, though. Go handle your business and I’ll catch up with you soon.


Yes, I think we got that.



Yes! It’s an article on American Football. I was saying that the Touchdown is 6 points and it’s the football equivalent of a George Clooney Wedding.

THE FIELD GOAL = 3 points

This is when a kicker kicks the ball through the uprights. This is the football equivalent of Kevin Kline.

rKevin Kline A Fish Called Wanda.png


It’s always welcome. You basically never turn your nose up at a field goal or Kevin Kline. If the question is: more field goal? Or: more Kevin Kline? The answer is always yes.

THE SAFETY = 2 points

This is when the defense forces the offense back into their endzone. Frankly, it doesn’t happen all that much, and even though it’s only a few measly points, it has the power to rewrite the script of a game. It’s the football equivalent of Alec Baldwin in Glengarry Glen Ross.

and lastly, THE EXTRA POINT = 1 point

This is just kind of always there. It’s the automatic kick you get after you score a touchdown and it’s basically a free point. Is it awesome to get a free point?

You betcha it is. The movie equivalent of an extra point is Floyd in True Romance.

So, what actually happened in the NFL this weekend? Well, Eli Manning was resplendent on Thursday night, proving naysayers like me wrong and with the help of his tight end Larry Donnell, the piss-poor Giants are now 2-2.

Eli moves with all the flexibility of a man with a plastic mannequin torso, but here he displays some good, old fashioned giddyup. Giants won big, 45-14.


Andrew Luck followed his dreams, which are apparently about annihilating the Titans.

The Lions snuck by the outmatched Jets.


Here’s the slo-mo, end of game fist pump by Lions QB Matthew Stafford to clinch the victory. This! Is! Sparta!

The Dolphins handed the winless Raiders their fourth loss, the Chargers beat the also winless future London Jaguars, the Pack trounced the Bears…

…and the Ravens walloped the Panthers. This tip play to Steve Smith…


…was reminiscent of the famous “Kenny Ketchup” play by Brandon Stokley:

“Batted up! Stokely! Down the Sideline! Kenny Ketchup! Stokely! Wguaaaaahhhh!”

Steve Smith’s move from Carolina to the Ravens has really resuscitated his career. Most people love his attitude. I think he’s generally kind of a jerk. Here he is not giving the ball to a referee.


You know what the Ravens really need? More jerks.

In Minnesota, there’s a new sheriff …


…and the Niners have their first win in their new stadium.


Most people thought the Saints would do their annual poo-poo dance on the Cowboys, but instead they got smoked, 38-17.

But my favorite play of the weekend was defensive lineman J.J. Watt catching a pass and running 80 yards the other way for a score. J.J. Watt is 6’6” and 292 lbs. He’s the one I compared to Thunderlips a few weeks ago.


He’s just a country-strong mass of marbled beef who shouldn’t have sticky hands and shouldn’t have cat-like reflexes. He’s only 25 years old and has the ability to rewrite many of the most important defensive records in NFL history before he’s through. This play is like a moose catching a blueberry and running 80 yards before a pack of wolves catch him.


On Monday night, there was also some football, sandwiched inside of about three hundred shots of various types of barbeque. We saw this guy come on to the field …


…aaaaand this guy leave:


I’m not saying the Patriots won’t be relevant from this point forward, but Brady got out-handsomed AND outplayed by his backup quarterback, Jimmy Garoppolo.


Ultimately leading to your basic Oregon Trail ending:


Tom Brady’s not really dead, everyone. He’s just 37. Maybe there’ll be an Eli-like resurgence but it sure doesn’t smell like it right now. What gives? I’m pretty sure Tom Brady promised us cake this season.

And I now have doubts that there is a cake at all.


So what does it all mean, NFL true-believers? In the midst of all this turmoil, Tom Brady getting humbled on national TV, black-ish still unwatched on my DVR …


… Clooney off the market and me frantically re-loading the CDC home page to try to understand this respiratory virus that seems to only affect toddlers? Is there anything to give hope to humanity? Is there any one image that can bring it all full circle?

Yes. Because in San Diego, some Michelangelo, some Einstein/Hawking hybrid somehow managed to circumvent the austere league rules.

and drew a small schlong on a football.


There are twelve game balls in each NFL game and thirteen NFL games this past weekend. Carry the one … that’s 156 balls out there and yet this one, this little engine that could was able to get itself a close up on national TV. If that isn’t a wake up call for better times, I don’t know what is.

I believe it was Albert Camus who said “Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and an appeal to the essence of being.” And like the thousand-score of scribbled phalluses from Ur to East Berlin to the chalkboard of my fourth grade math class, this tiny penis embiggens us all.

See y’all next week.

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